


Claimed

by sinestrated



Series: Past Tense [7]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comeplay, Cultural Differences, M/M, Married Couple, Possessive Sex, Possessive!Din, Restraints, Vibrators, post-Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinestrated/pseuds/sinestrated
Summary: A meeting with one of Paz’s contacts goes rather unexpectedly. Din is pissed. Paz is mostly amused.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Series: Past Tense [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675399
Comments: 5
Kudos: 155





	Claimed

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Star Wars Day! In celebration, have this next installment a day early.
> 
> Also, this fic 100% indulges my ridiculous crush on Mike Colter. He is a gorgeous human being.

Din kept an eye on their surroundings, hand hovering over his blaster. “This place is a shithole.”

“Nah.” Paz ducked down to avoid bonking his helm on the roof of one of the stalls. “Vallaya-9 was a shithole. This place is lightyears better.”

Technically he was right. For an unremarkable little planetoid on the very outskirts of the quadrant, Seviva was a lively, bustling place: several large metropolitan cities, thriving commerce centers, and a fast-flowing cycle of offworld travelers coming in and out at all hours of the day. Politically neutral—and under the New Republic’s radar enough to stay that way—it was the perfect place to meet up with one of Paz’s old contacts.

Din hadn’t seen the transmission himself, but Paz seemed to trust this Ballawai woman well enough. They’d done a couple jobs together about ten years back, fast-moving trigger-happy gigs, which apparently were all his husband needed to consider someone good people. Ballawai claimed to have sniffed out another Covert of Mandalorians somewhere in the quadrant, so to keep from revealing the location to curious intercepting ears, they’d agreed to meet her here for the details.

Which was all well and good; after Nevarro they’d lost contact with most of the other survivors, didn’t know how many Mandalorians remained out there, fighting and struggling to keep their Creed alive. Any information, however shaky, was worth following up on. It was just...

A soft touch to the back of his hand and he turned to see Paz peering at him. “You just don’t like leaving the kids on the ranch,” he said. Din could sense the smile behind that T-shaped visor.

He sighed. “I know they’ve gotten along without us before, but it’s different now. After the Covert, and then almost losing you—” His heart tightened and he cleared his throat. “And then all that shit with Gideon and the Remnant...Paz, what if the Imps find them somehow? What if we’re not there and Lashniya and Corvenan can’t—”

“They can.” Paz’s hand twitched, and Din knew it was only because they were out in public that his husband wasn’t pulling him into a comforting embrace right now. “You don’t think they survived the galactic war by smiling pretty with their varactyls, do you? They’ll look after the kids. And besides,” here he tilted his helm, and Din could just imagine his smile widening, “I personally pity the first idiot who tries to come after our little one.”

Din couldn’t help but grin back. Yeah, it would be all right. Roan and Ruun were well-versed now in how to look after the baby, and the foundling themself? Well, they’d survived in one piece for fifty years already. Lashniya and Corvenan would keep the children safe. He and Paz would meet up with Ballawai, get the intel, and head right back, and everything would be okay.

“There it is.” Paz nodded up ahead. Din followed his gaze, visor quickly scanning the squat little building and throwing a designation up on his HUD: it was a cantina, all right, not Guild-affiliated this far out but reputable enough, with the exact coordinates Ballawai had provided them.

Paz slowed his steps a bit as they approached. “So...”

Din glanced at him. “What?”

“Something you should know about Ballawai.”

He stopped at that, turning to face his husband fully. “What.” Paz hadn’t said a lot about his contact; Din had assumed it just wasn’t important. But he wasn’t quite liking the older Mandalorian’s tone at the moment: a little awkward, almost...sheepish?

“She, uh. She’s Kuali,” Paz said, like that explained anything. Din shook his head. The galaxy was huge; he couldn’t be expected to know every single species out there.

“What’s that mean?”

“Nothing much, just...” Paz shrugged. “Their species is kinda...handsy. So, you know. Don’t get mad.”

Din snorted. “ _ You’re  _ telling  _ me _ to control my temper?”

“Yeah.” Paz chuckled and led the way toward the cantina’s front door. “I know.”

Din shook his head but dutifully followed him in. It was cute, Paz bringing it up. Ballawai might’ve been an acquaintance once, a fellow soldier, maybe even a friend, but in the end she wasn’t the one Paz married.

The cantina was basically a replica of every other backwater establishment they’d ever been in: the bar at the center, manned by droids, with high tables scattered throughout and privacy booths along the walls. Lively music played in the background, just loud enough to mask any seedy conversations, and the atmosphere settled heavy upon entrance, thick with smoke and a dozen different smells.

The patrons all turned when they walked in, but after the usual looks of shock and curiosity they were largely ignored as they made their way to an empty booth in the back. Paz waved off a droid carrying a tray of drinks while Din glanced around, assessing ambush points and escape routes. With any luck they wouldn’t have to use them, but it never hurt to be careful.

Paz, evidently, was thinking the same thing. “I mark three exits,” his husband said, “not counting the windows.”

Din nodded. “Choke point northeast near the back door. I got line of sight from your four to eight o’clock.”

“Same.” On instinct they’d sat down on opposite ends of the booth so they could cover each other’s blind spots. Paz nodded at the blaster holstered at Din’s hip. “Shit hits the fan, you draw first. A standard flashflare’ll scatter the hostiles. I’ll cover the retreat.”

“Roger that.” Brief finished, Din leaned back and tilted his head at his husband. “Where is she?”

Paz shrugged, not sounding too worried. “Ballawai always sort of took punctuality as a preference, not a rule,” he said. “You’ll see when you meet her, she’s kind of—”

“Man-doooo!”

Din damned near jumped out of his skin, hand flying to his blaster as a large tawny-red shape flew into the booth. Paz bowled back with a grunt and Din stared, uncaring that he was gaping like a fish at the giant humanoid fox currently in his husband’s lap.

Because that’s what she was: covered head to toe in thick reddish-brown fur, Ballawai had a human-like face except for the snout and whiskers, with large ears, a muscular build, and a long twisting cat-like tail. She was at least Paz’s height, maybe even taller, and like a Wookiee she wore no clothes, the bright lights of the cantina leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination as she rubbed her front up against Paz in a slow, sensual slide like it was normal, like she had  _ any fucking right _ and—oh. Oh, no. 

Paz, it seemed, had been right to warn him earlier.

“I’ve missed you,” Ballawai purred, her orange-gold eyes gleaming as she ran a paw-like hand down Paz’s chestplate. “Oh, your scent, all sweat and steel and blaster discharge—”

“Uh, yeah, good to see you too, Ballawai.” Din’s husband sounded about as uncomfortable as he felt, shoving awkwardly at the giant Kuali as she thrust her not-inconsiderable bosom at his helm. “Look, just—will you get your fucking tits—”

“Oh, you like them?” Ballawai grinned and rubbed up against Paz even closer. Din’s hand clenched into a shaking fist beneath the table as the Kuali continued in her low, smoky voice, “They’re so big ‘cause I’m still suckling my litter from this season. But don’t worry, their father and I already parted ways so if you want to—”

Din cleared his throat so loudly it actually hurt. Ballawai turned to face him, and confusion leaked through the anger because instead of looking smug or otherwise proud of herself the Kuali’s face instead broke into open, almost childish delight. “Oh! You must be the mate!” She heaved herself off Paz and rushed toward him. “I’m Ballawai, I’ve been dying to meet—”

“ _ Don’t touch me. _ ” The harshness of the words startled even himself, and Din swallowed and tried to ignore Paz’s stare as he crossed his arms over his cuirass. “Just...stay over there.”  _ And keep your fucking paws off my husband, _ he barely managed not to add.

Ballawai blinked, then wrinkled her snout. “Well, you’re an asshole,” she muttered, glancing over at Paz. “I didn’t come all the way out here to be treated like a goddamned kitstealer, Mando.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Paz scooted further into the booth to make room, the movement bringing one of his boots up to rest firmly against Din’s own. The contact provided just enough comfort, just enough  _ I’ve-got-you _ for Din to relax a bit, letting out a shaky breath and forcing himself to unclench his fists.  _ Keep a lid on it, _ he told himself.  _ When all this is done, you’re the one he’s leaving with. You’re the one he chose to marry and raise a family with, not this salivating bitch. _

“Remember when we first met and I’d freak out all the time around you?” Paz continued, leaning back just a bit as Ballawai poured herself onto the seat next to him. “It’s a Mandalorian thing, all right? And I know it’s weird for you but if you could just...keep from touching too much and just tell us what you know about this Covert—”

“Yeah, okay.” Ballawai shook her head and leaned down to rub her whiskered cheek over Paz’s pauldron. Din stiffened, but Paz nudged him with his boot and he kept his mouth shut as the Kuali continued, in a tone that implied she was still vaguely irritated, “So fucking weird to not scent-mark anywhere, but fine. And I do owe you for that thing on Mingwah Station, so despite your mate’s attitude—” She threw a sharp look Din’s way, and he swallowed against the lump of anger and hurt, “I’ll tell you that I heard through the Whispernet that three Mandalorians have been sighted on Korribia. The intel might not be completely reliable—Whispers are like that—but I cross-referenced what I could and it looks like there’s at least two distinct individuals, maybe one of them has a different set of armor. My contact on Korribia, anyway, confirms at least four bounties claimed by a Mando or someone pretending to be one over the last three months. So, you know. It sounds like a lead.”

“Okay.” How someone could communicate  _ Don’t freak, this is just to smooth things over _ with a boot-nudge Din would never know, but Paz somehow managed it as he reached up to scratch behind Ballawai’s ear, laughing low as she made a pleased rumble and pushed into it. “Thanks, Ballawai. Really. You reached out to me first and that...it means a lot.”

“Yeah, well, I never forget a good scent,” the Kuali answered, nuzzling Paz’s cheekplate. “And you know, we probably won’t see each other again for a while, so why don’t we catch up a bit and maybe after...”

And then her fucking slutty paw slid down between Paz’s legs to  _ touch Din’s husband  _ and oh, that was fucking  _ it. _

Paz’s strangled noise was quickly overtaken by the sharp  _ thump _ of the flimsy metal table as Din shot to his feet, and the sound drew curious looks from around the cantina but he couldn’t even care because if they didn’t get the hell out of here right the fuck now, if he didn’t get Paz away from this—this fucking fox  _ bitch _ with her knowing eyes and her fucking greedy hands—

“We’re leaving!” he snapped, the harsh feedback through his modulator enough to make him wince even as he glared at Paz. “Now!”

The other patrons turned to whisper to each other. Ballawai frowned and got up from the booth and—yep. Taller than Paz, and those were definitely sharp canines gleaming in the light as she drew her lips back from her teeth, and all of a sudden there was the glint of curved claws at the tips of her fingers and motherfucking  _ spikes _ unsheathing along her tail as she hissed, low, “I’m running out of patience with you, Mando.”

“Whoa, okay.” Paz stepped between them, laying one hand firmly against Din’s chestplate. “We’re going. Ballawai, I’m really sorry—consider the scales tipped, all right? Now I owe you the favor. Whatever you need, you know how to find me.”

“Yeah.” Ballawai’s tail-spikes resheathed, but she still flashed a couple of fangs as she glared at Din. “Maybe teach him a few manners in the meantime, or I don’t care how much I respect you, Mando, I’m feeding his intestines to my kits.”

“Duly noted.” Paz gave Din a push toward the door, gentle yet firm. “Come on.”

#

Din couldn’t even remember the journey back to the Razor Crest. It was as if he blinked through the red haze surrounding his vision and all of a sudden he was stomping up the ship’s ramp, bootsteps echoing loud and sharp in the silence of the hangar. Everything just was—was  _ so much _ , confusion and fury and sharp-spined  _ hurt  _ making his guts twist up and his eyes prickle with ridiculous tears and it was just—how could Paz have ever let someone—someone like  _ her _ —

A soft hiss as the ramp rose up and sealed, followed by Paz’s sigh, bare of his modulator. “So are we gonna talk about it or...?”

Din growled and yanked his helm off. “I’m gonna kill her.”

His husband just chuckled. “You didn’t see her take down a whole battalion of Sawanian commandos,” he said. “Trust me, she let us off easy.”

“She was  _ all over _ you! Like a, like a—I don’t even know! How could you—”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not on me.” Paz shook his head. “I told you, Kuali are handsy. They’ve got this, I dunno, scent-language or something, like another form of nonverbal communication through touch and smell. They don’t feel right unless they’re doing it. It’d be like...like you or me trying to have a conversation with our mouths closed, or something.” He nodded back in the direction of the cantina. “And I tried, didn’t I? When I first met her it took a month for me to stop trying to knife her every time she got close. It’s just who she is, Din. I tried to respect that.”

Yeah, by letting her paw him like a piece of meat for sale at a market. Din grit his teeth. “Did you fuck her?”

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, especially when Paz blinked and his smile disappeared. “Okay,” his husband said, voice dropping a bit. “It was kind of cute seeing you get all riled up like this, but this whole thing just got a lot less funny.”

There was real anger there, and just a touch of hurt. Cold fingers wrapped around Din’s heart and he hurried over, reaching down to take Paz’s hands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

And he meant it. With that single question he’d insulted Paz thrice: implied he was promiscuous, that he’d dishonored the Creed, and that he thought so little of their marriage that he’d hide information like that from Din. None of these things described Paz in the slightest, and Din couldn’t help the relieved exhale when Paz nodded and leaned forward to press a kiss to his hair. 

“It’s okay,” his husband said, stroking his hip. “And for the record, no, I didn’t. I said she was handsy, not that I liked it. And no,” he added, as Din opened his mouth, “she’s not interested in me that way either. Not the way we understand it, anyway. Kuali use sex as, I dunno, social currency or something. They do it all the fucking time, as recreation, barter, to hang out with friends—just, everywhere. But while Ballawai’s open about sex, she’s not immoral. I denied her before and she respected that, and I was gonna tell her no again today, except apparently I underestimated your possessive streak.”

He cocked his head with just a hint of a smirk then, and Din couldn’t help but smile back. They were okay. “Yeah, well, I kind of underestimated it too.”

“Mm, I dunno.” Paz’s smile went just this side of wicked, and ah. More than okay. “S’kinda hot, to be honest.”

“Really.” Din laughed and stepped forward, looping his arms behind Paz’s neck as his husband drew him in, warm and accepting as always. “Does it turn you on to see me lay a claim?”

“Well.” Paz dipped his head for a kiss, gentle and sweet, but Din felt the sharpness of his grin with his next words. “Technically you haven’t done it yet, have you?”

The bolt of—of something, heat and arousal and  _ mine mine mine _ lit everything up inside him and Din growled and smashed their lips together, pushing his tongue into Paz’s mouth and drinking in the older man’s low, startled moan. He slid his hands down Paz’s chestplate, taking comfort in the solid feel of beskar—but wait. That was the same place Ballawai had touched him with her dirty groping hands. 

He snarled and shoved at Paz, pushing him toward the fresher. “Get your armor off and get under the sonics. I want her scent off you.”

Paz blinked, looking a little dazed even as he flashed a smile. “Yes, sir.”

Din swallowed—because wow, hot—and as Paz began removing his pauldrons he hurried over to the ladderwell that led up to the cockpit. They were going to need some time alone and undisturbed.

It took only a few minutes to run the Crest through her startup sequences, locate Korribia in the navicomputer, and point the ship in that direction. After setting an autocourse and making sure the old hyperdrive wouldn’t cough them out in the middle of a black hole, Din hurried back down to the main hold. The fresher door was closed, sonics whirring, and Paz’s armor lay in a neat pile of dark blue next to the weapons locker. 

He went to the medstation first to grab the lube and the decon wand, and on a whim he took the little capsule-shaped metal cylinder tucked carefully in the back corner as well. Setting everything down on the rack, he picked up Paz’s armor and turned the wand on, slowly running the thrumming blue light over every inch of beskar and durasteel, obliterating each individual atom of Ballawai’s presence.

He was about halfway finished when the sonics shut off and the fresher door snapped open. Paz stepped out and crossed to their personal locker, humming quietly to himself, and Din couldn’t help but stare.

After nearly three years of marriage he’d long lost track of how many times he’d seen his husband naked, yet still the sight never failed to take his breath away. Granted, most of the time it involved sweat and lube and Paz’s giant cock so deep up inside him he could barely breathe, but there were times like this, too, when Din could just look at his husband, no expectation or hurry, and marvel at how damned lucky he was to have married someone this beautiful.

And beautiful he was, though Paz would probably grumble and blush and deny it to the end of his days. His neatly-braided dreadlocks were getting long—Din would trim and wash and redo them when they got back to the ranch—and they fell softly down over his shoulders to frame his face, dark eyes and a broad nose and a strong jaw dusted with stubble. Well-formed muscle bunched and flowed beneath dark skin as he sifted through the locker for fresh clothes, and Din dragged his gaze down over broad, scarred pecs and a flat stomach to Paz’s cock, soft between his thighs, resting in a bed of short, curly pubic hair with a round, bulbous head and the shaft still decently long and thick even while not aroused. 

It rarely stayed that way, of course. Not when Din wrapped his fist around it, or sealed his lips over that fat head and took Paz deep into his throat, feeling that delicious veined shaft thicken and grow and stuff his mouth so wonderfully full. He hissed softly and shifted on the rack, pants suddenly far too tight. The sound caught Paz’s attention, his husband turning to blink at him, one hand already holding a freshly-laundered tunic. “Din?”

He looked...well, like he hadn’t the slightest clue what Din had in store, and Din shivered at the little tingles of arousal that sent down his spine as he set the wand and the armor aside and rose to make his way over. “Leave it,” he said, and had the satisfaction of seeing Paz frown in confusion as he glanced down at the tunic.

“What?”

“I said leave it.” Din pressed in close, reaching up to run his hands through Paz’s hair, tugging gently at the dreads. “I need to stake a claim, remember?” he said, and had the satisfaction of watching his husband’s eyebrows lift, that broad chest rising on a breath. “So this is mine.” He ran the bare pads of his fingers down Paz’s neck and scarred, muscular torso. “And this, and this...” Paz gasped as he wrapped his fingers around his cock, and yep, his husband was definitely getting on board. “And especially this.”

“Hmm.” Paz kissed him and Din sighed, curling their tongues together as he stroked the older man’s cock, feeling flesh grow firm and thick and hot in his hand. Paz rocked forward with a low noise before pulling back, and the smirk on his face was pure wicked delight as he rumbled, low, “Prove it.”

And that was it.

Din snarled and shoved him toward the rack. He didn’t put half his strength into it—his husband had thirty pounds on him and could be about as movable as a duracrete wall if he wanted—but Paz just laughed and went with it, letting Din push and bully and manhandle him until he was seated on the cold floor next to the rack, peering up at him with a smug look. “I like this angle,” he said, “but I’m still not feeling very owned, husband.”

Din snorted and knelt down to kiss him. Paz sighed and reached for him, then let out a startled little “Oh!” when Din seized his wrist and hauled it up to the edge of the rack.  _ Click-snap! _ The cuffs clanked lightly against the bed’s metal grate, slim and fragile-looking yet near unbreakable, and Din watched as Paz gave them an experimental tug, rotating his wrist and flexing his fingers.

“Okay?” he asked, because despite the fire licking in his belly demanding that he mark and claim and  _ take _ , he would never hurt Paz. It would break his heart.

“Yeah,” his husband said after another moment. “I’m good.”

Din nodded and unclipped the second pair of cuffs from his belt. This time when he trapped Paz’s other wrist his husband sighed and relaxed into it, leaning back against the rack as much as the bound position would allow as Din straightened back up. “Well then,  _ beroya, _ ” he said, licking his lips, “now that you’ve got me where you want me, what next?”

What next, indeed. Din smiled and turned away to begin undressing. Torturous as it was he took his time, giving each piece of beskar a quick inspection before setting it aside, not because he was actually concerned about armor integrity but just to hear Paz make impatient shifting sounds behind him. The older man held out all the way to the boots, finally letting out a frustrated breath as Din bent down to pull them off, purposely tilting his bare ass in Paz’s direction.

His husband groaned at that, low. “Come on, baby, I’m dying here.”

Din hummed, tossing the boots away as he straightened back up. “Last I checked, property doesn’t make demands,” he said, and smiled at Paz’s shaky exhale.

The older man fell obediently quiet. Din finished putting his clothes and armor away and took a moment to inspect himself in the fresher’s tiny mirror. He was tempted to do something truly outlandish then, like shave or at least trim his mustache, but the throbbing of his own cock standing proud and thick between his legs was enough to put him off the idea. Paz wasn’t the only one waiting, after all.

His husband straightened up against the rack when he approached, gaze falling immediately to Din’s cock as he came to stand in front of him. Paz himself was still hard, his erection flushed dark and curving up toward his belly, long and thick with precome starting to bead at the tip. Din sighed and sank down to all fours, reaching out to snatch the little tube of lubricant along the way.

“How about we start with a reminder,” he said, mouth watering, “of exactly  _ why _ you want to belong to me.”

And then he curled down to take the head of Paz’s cock into his mouth. His husband cursed and his hips jerked on instinct but Din was ready for it, rising up a bit so that Paz’s thrust up sank him in deeper without choking. The familiar musk-sweat taste infused his senses and he moaned around his mouthful, curling his tongue over the thick shaft and around the head, flicking over the slit just to taste the burst of mild salt-sweetness before slowly working his way down. Above him Paz moaned, metal clinking softly as he tugged at the cuffs but he didn’t sound distressed so Din just kept going, flattening his tongue and breathing through his nose as he swallowed his husband down, losing himself in the delicious taste and weight and stretch of it.

From this angle he couldn’t actually get Paz all the way down his throat but the older man didn’t seem to mind, breathless curses tumbling out from above as his legs quivered with the effort not to thrust. Din caressed his hip in appreciation for the consideration, then reached down to wrap his fingers around where his mouth couldn’t reach, pumping slowly as he bobbed his head, Paz’s gasps and sighs of pleasure only fueling the fire burning deep in his gut.

He’d long given up trying to figure out why he loved sucking Paz’s cock so much. He just did, and it wasn’t like his husband was exactly turned off by the idea. Din sighed and opened his mouth wide until his jaw ached so he could take as much of Paz as possible, everything slick with saliva and precome. This close he could smell all of him: sweat and musk and that distinct smoked-pine scent that was all Paz, and Din hummed and reached down to cup and roll Paz’s balls, a little thrill rushing through him at his husband’s broken noise. Ballawai may have assigned a scent for Paz from his armor and his weapons but she knew nothing of what lay underneath, the miles of dark skin and strong muscles and the way Paz smelled and sounded when wanton and desperate. Only Din got to see this, only him, because Paz belonged to him, just like he belonged to his husband. More than marriage or any contract they were two halves of the same soul, and nothing, not the Creed or the Empire or the New Republic or the entire fucking galaxy, and certainly not fucking Ballawai with her sly fox face and her big grabby paws, would ever be able to change that.

His husband gasped and stiffened when Din touched a lube-slick finger to his entrance, so he paused there and waited, continuing to suckle the tip of Paz’s cock as he gently circled the puckered rim. Then Paz released a breath and relaxed into it, and Din smiled around his mouthful, swirling his tongue gratefully around Paz’s thick cockhead as he slowly pushed his finger inside. 

Paz let out a long, low groan at that. They did this so rarely that his inner walls felt impossibly tight around Din’s finger, his hole twitching and clenching around the intrusion, but they also did it often enough that on his husband’s next concentrated breath those muscles relaxed and welcomed him in. Din rewarded him with a low hum that had Paz cursing and his cock jerking in Din’s mouth, but he let it go, hollowing his cheeks and sucking dutifully as he worked his finger in and out of his husband’s body, eventually adding a second when Paz relaxed enough. The older man hissed at that but his muscles remained loose and Din let himself enjoy it for a few moments, the heavy weight of Paz’s cock on his tongue as his husband’s body accepted his fingers, sucking them down over and over into that tight wet heat.

When at last he pulled off Paz’s cock to look up, the sight that greeted him was truly divine: Paz’s head tipped back against the rack, eyes closed and mouth half-open, his broad chest heaving and glistening with sweat as he rocked with each thrust of Din’s fingers. It was almost too much and Din reached up, tugging his husband forward by his hair so they could kiss, all soft sighs and the warm, slick slide of tongues. Din pressed himself up against the older man, breathing Paz’s air and smiling at his choked moan when he shoved his fingers in as deep as he could, careful to avoid Paz’s prostate.

Then he drew them out. Paz collapsed back with a huff, dazed, and Din leaned forward to brush his lips over his husband’s. “Good?”

“Yeah.” Paz sounded a little breathless, but he was still hard and the grin he sent Din’s way was playful. “What else you got?”

Din snorted and reached past his shoulder to pick up the little metal cylinder from before. It was the only toy they dared keep aboard the Crest because it was innocuous-looking enough to escape the children’s notice: about four inches long, shaped like a medcapsule with no discernible buttons or controls. Still, Din smiled when Paz’s eyes widened a bit, his husband thunking his head back against the rack with a groan. “Holy shit, baby. You’re gonna kill me.”

“Now that wouldn’t do either of us any good.” Din snickered when Paz rolled his eyes and kicked him. The cuffs gave a cheerful clink and his husband tipped his chin up, a challenge in his eyes.

“Do your worst then.”

Din’s grin widened. He ran his thumb in a slow, distinct circle around the capsule’s smooth end, and with a soft beep it ejected a tiny disk, barely the size of his thumbnail. The microadhesive stuck the disk easily to the pad of his thumb, metal refusing to budge even with his sweat-slick skin, and Din made sure to stay within Paz’s line of sight as he squeezed a drop of lube onto the capsule itself, slicking up the smooth metal surface before bringing it down to press gently against his husband’s hole. “Ready?”

Paz nodded, then shuddered and tipped his head back as Din slowly pushed the toy inside. Din hummed and watched it carefully, the way his husband’s rim opened and stretched around smooth metal. He stopped about two inches in and reached up with his free hand to cup Paz’s cheek. “Baby?”

“Hnn.” Paz bit his lip and shifted around a little, but when he settled a few moments later and fixed Din with his dark eyes he was smiling. “I’m okay. Go ahead.”

Din nodded and touched his index finger to the disk on his thumb. Paz gasped and his hips lifted as the metal capsule began to vibrate with a low whir. “G-Gods,” his husband said, surprised and aroused in one, and Din just grinned and rose to his feet, stepping forward to bump the head of his cock along Paz’s cheek.

“Now, about that claim,” he said.

His husband didn’t need to be told twice. Din moaned, toes curling as Paz leaned forward as much as the cuffs would allow to close his lips over the head of his cock. The suction was heavenly, all wet wonderful heat and Din sighed and thrust slowly forward, feeding Paz his cock as his husband tilted up to take him deeper until the head touched the back of his throat, until he had Paz, his husband and partner and only match, surrounding him completely as he always should have.

He pulled back a little, drawing halfway out of Paz’s mouth, and when his husband made an unhappy noise and tried to follow he touched finger to thumb again. The hum between the older man’s legs went up a notch and Paz jerked and cried out and that’s when Din slammed forward again, groaning at the sensation as he buried himself down his husband’s throat.

He set a brutal pace then, deep hard thrusts to plunge his cock in over and over, fucking his husband’s warm, willing mouth as Paz whined and squirmed and humped up beneath him. The cuffs rattled with every thrust and Din reached down to wind his hands in Paz’s hair, partly to steady himself and partly to keep Paz’s head from hitting the hard metal rack as he lost himself in that wonderful heat swallowing him over and over, in the breathless, punched-out sounds Paz was making, the way his husband’s hips twitched, long beautiful cock dripping precome all over his stomach as he shifted around the vibrator in his ass. It was a lovely picture, made even more decadent for its rarity and gods, if only Ballawai could see him now, the whole cantina, the entire fucking galaxy even, Paz Vizsla letting himself be fucked on both ends because Din said so, because no one but Din had his trust and his love so completely, because his husband belonged to him body and soul.

It was too much all of a sudden, a wave of sharp pleasure surprising the breath out of him and Din quickly hauled his cock out of Paz’s mouth, ignoring his husband’s desperate noise as he reached down to tug at his cock, heat surging through his nerves. “Oh fuck,” he hissed, as his legs trembled and his balls tightened up. “Fuck, baby, here it comes, gonna mark you up, gonna make you  _ mine _ —” And then orgasm hit and he keened, everything narrowed down to the rush of heat and pleasure and  _ oh gods yes _ . The first spurt hit Paz’s chin and they both moaned, and Din pumped himself hard, panting as he painted Paz’s neck and collarbone and chest, covering his husband in splatters of white and marking up all that gorgeous dark skin, claiming him at last.

It took him a moment to come back to himself, the whole world spinning as his legs shook and struggled to keep him upright. Below him Paz emitted a high, needy whine and Din fell to his knees, shaky, reaching out with one hand to fist his husband’s cock as he fumbled to touch the index finger of the other to his thumb three times.

“ _ F-Fuck! _ ” Paz’s eyes slammed shut and he arched up as the vibrator hit its highest setting. Din just nodded and leaned in to kiss him, panting into Paz’s mouth as he pumped him hard and fast, drinking in his husband’s breathless noises, the way his hips jerked and his whole body shuddered as he rode the waves of stimulation.

“Come on, baby,” he growled, pulling back to drag his tongue over Paz’s chin, lapping up his come, tightening his fist just to hear Paz moan. “Come on, I know you’re close, come for me, let me see it, Paz,  _ please _ —”

Paz’s long, shuddering groan echoed through the entire ship. His husband’s whole body stiffened, muscles straining beautifully in the light and Din pressed Paz’s cock upward so he shot all over himself, his stomach and chest, adding to the mess Din had made, mixing them together on the territory of his skin.

Paz fell back, panting, the cuffs the only thing keeping him upright. Din hummed and pressed the disk one more time. The whirring of the vibrator ceased and he carefully slid it out of his husband, taking a moment to check for damage before pressing the end of the toy to his thumb. Smooth metal sucked the disk back up and reformed, flawless, and Din set the capsule aside before rising up to brush a kiss over Paz’s sweaty temple.

“Okay?” he whispered, and when Paz didn’t respond immediately, eyes closed, chest heaving, he pressed closer. “Husband.”

Paz lifted his head then. “Yeah,” he said, smile tired but genuine. “Yeah, I’m good. Maybe get these off me, love?”

“Of course.” Din reached out and unlocked each cuff separately, taking time to massage his husband’s wrists. Paz sighed and tipped forward to kiss him, slow and uncoordinated like maybe his brain hadn’t completely rebooted yet, and Din allowed himself a moment of warm pride. Yeah, most of the time it was Paz taking him apart bit by bit until he was a loose-limbed, fucked-out mess, but it was nice to see they could do it the other way too. A give and take: that was what it meant to be married. That was why Din would always be the one Paz returned to, not stupid Ballawai.

Sighing, he scooted forward so he could nestle into Paz’s side. His husband’s arm slid loosely around his waist, callused fingers stroking his hip, and Din hummed and relaxed into it, dragging a hand absently over the mess on Paz’s stomach to rub the mixture of their come into the older man’s skin. Paz chuckled, still a little breathless. “Guess it’s pretty obvious now who I belong to.”

“Mm. Wish Ballawai could see it.”

“You sure? ‘Cause she’d probably take it as an invitation.” Paz laughed at Din’s glare and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry. We won’t see her again for a while, I’m sure.”

“It’s not...” Din sighed and lifted his head. Despite his previous anger and what just happened between them, he needed Paz to know. “It’s okay if you do. See her again, I mean. I don’t like how she acts but I get it, and I don’t...you’re not actually my property, Paz, so you don’t have to explain anything or change who you choose to socialize with just because I get a little jealous sometimes.”

“I know.” Paz’s smile softened and he leaned in for a kiss, chaste and tender. “And I appreciate that so much, believe me. I’m just saying it took a decade for Ballawai to get in touch with me this time. With her short attention span I wouldn’t be surprised if another ten years pass before we hear from her again.”

Din huffed a laugh and settled back in. Paz hummed, a deep soothing rumble up his chest. “Damn. I need to hit the sonics again.”

“Mm.” Din threw a leg over his thigh and curled into him close, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of cooling come against his front as he nuzzled Paz’s throat. “Not yet. Stay.”

He felt more than saw the smile his husband pressed to his hair as Paz’s arms came up to encircle him, warm and safe as always.

“Yes, sir,” he murmured, and Din grinned, settling against him as the world went back to rights.

Ballawai and the rest of the galaxy could just fuck right off. Paz Vizsla was spoken for.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all like Ballawai; I'm hoping to bring her back in a later installment.


End file.
